


Midnight Mayhem

by M_The_Muse



Series: Gorillaz Child [1]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Cute, Phase Four (Gorillaz), Reader-Interactive, You Are A Child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_The_Muse/pseuds/M_The_Muse
Summary: You're adopted into the Gorillaz home, and it's just wild. This story focuses on 2D, but there is a story for each character.





	Midnight Mayhem

**Author's Note:**

> I've been busy with this collaboration series. I'm sorry I couldn't post more. Please bare with me on this okay?

You were being chased. Though Murdoc in his drunken state was hardly what anyone would call swift, your small legs weren’t any way to get around quickly. Your graphic t-shirt that was small on everyone else in the house nearly hit your knees with each stride. Bright red shorts that Stu had given you long ago were covered entirely by it as you tried to escape. The carpet was growing hot beneath your feet, the friction of your steps burning the pads of your feet. Drunken slurs of your name and to ‘get your ass back over to him before he tore you a new one’ gave you enough reason to run into a random room.

Shutting that door was hard enough with its dumb creaking, and once you heard Murdoc’s stumbling footsteps get far enough away you exhaled in relief. After moments of you quietly huffing as you sat against the door, you began to figure out who’s room it was. It didn’t take you long once the static set television and multiple glow-in-the-dark zombie posters’ soft light all over the room lit various strewn clothes, instruments, half-finished snacks and drinks, and a lump in the ratty old comforter. Long and scrawny legs stuck out from the tattered covering, but you saw it slide down as a twig-like figure sat up with it’s blackened eyes on you.

“Oi, wha’ are ya doin’ up so late? An’ in my room too.” Stu pushed off the comforter and moved to crouch in front of you, “Wha’s got ya tilted?”

“Murdoc has been drinkin’ and I didn’ want to get a talkin’ to.” You stood to become taller than the slender man, “Also gettin’ yelled at for hours about random stuff until he starts cryin’ in my bed over somethin’ completely off the wall.”

“Ah, trus’ me.” Stu rose and stretched before patting your head, “I‘ve had plen’y of ‘em for years wit’ Muds. ‘e only gets worse.”

The heavy thudding of Murdoc probably hitting the wall before he started banging on the door caused you both to jump. You gave a quick pleading look at Stu, to which he waved to the bed for you to hide in. There was no time wasted as you ducked under the covers, only a blanket over an old mattress. Murdoc had practically flung the door open, but his voice was in an odd whisper. Talking more like he was hunting a prey animal instead of tracking you down.

“Dents,” He slurred, “Dents. Love, whatever I call you. . .”

“Wha’ issit? ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” Stu sighed, arm blocking the doorway.

“You seen the kid? Y’know, tha’ kid who lives here with us for no reason an’ I thought they were a ghost when we were movin’ here.”

“Nah, betta find them. May not ‘ave custody of ‘em, but they’re on the prop’ty. Can’t ‘ave ‘em gettin’ hurt over here, i’s bad for image.”

“Righ’, righ’.” Murdoc burped, and downed the rest of a beer bottle in his hand, “Well, I’ll be in their room for. . . for when they come back.”

Stu shooed him out of the doorway, turning back around after closing the door. With a small chuckle to himself the blue-haired man sat at the foot of the bed. You wriggled out of the warm blanket, flopping back onto his lap with a triumphant cackle.

“He went away! We won Two-dee!” You clapped your hands in the air, small arms not needing to worry about hitting him.

“I guess. . . I don’ really wan’ ya in ‘ere though. Muds never let me hear the end of it ‘en I let Noodle sleep in m’ bed years ago ‘en she was a lil’ lass.”

“Darn, you must be old then!” You cried, sliding off of his lap and onto the floor. “Muds’ll squawk at me all night if I go back. It was really weird last time, because he started talkin’ about his ‘Murdoc Dic-”

“Okay, okay! Movin’ on from tha’ subject. . .” 

“But you don’t know what he said about-”

“I’ve heard plenty abou’ it before!”

“I’s so weird because he named it after himself.”

“Do you want to go back an’ listen to him again? ‘Cause if ya do, he’s waitin’.” Stu gave a wink before breaking off into laughter.

“Hell no!” You slapped at his shoulder playfully.

“Ay, don’ cuss like tha’. I’s not for kiddos like yaself. But we’re gonna watch a scary movie if ya aren’ goin’ back.” Stu picked up a random movie from a pile of DVDs, and a sleeveless shirt that he slid over his head. “You up for somethin’ spooky?”

You sat on the pillow as he set up the movie, covering your mouth when seeing his pink underwear with hearts on it. He heard your giggling nonetheless, but remained quiet as you buried yourself back under the comforter. Stu joined you after a bit, fishing out the remote from a pile of crumpled papers and magazines beside his bed. 

“Nothin’ spooks me, Two-dee.” You pulled a tough face, and he laughed.

“We’ll see, kid.”

By the time it hit the halfway point, you were both tiredly laughing at how awful the effects were. You could probably do better by using a passed out Murdoc as a body and pouring ketchup on him. Which could actually be a good idea, and you planned on getting the others in on it. By the three-quarter mark, you were pressed up against a silent Stu. Turning around to face him, he was asleep with a spindly arm around your small self. His door creaked open, and the familiar female shape of Noodle snuck in with a Polaroid camera. You pretended to be asleep as you heard the familiar camera shutter, smiling to yourself as she closed the door behind her.

The next morning you rose to Stu still deeply asleep for longer than you’d ever known him to be. Crawling over him to get to the kitchen for some food, you stopped by your room to see if it was occupied. Luckily Murdoc hadn’t completely trashed your room full of mostly hand-me-down items from the band. Your melodica was thrown into a corner, and several alcohol bottles were broken or just laying around. Everything else was as disorganised as you’d left it. At this point you realised how sloppy the whole house is, despite Russel and sometimes Noodle trying to convince the rest of us to clean. Picking up the instrument, you played a few notes to be sure it worked, then set it down on the bed as you ran to the stairs for breakfast. You did a banister slide that you’d seen be done in several films, but it wasn’t nearly as fun or fast as it looked.

In the kitchen, Murdoc was facedown with a nearly overflowing cup of coffee. Russel was at the stove, cooking what was probably a hearty breakfast for either himself or all of them. Noodle was on her phone, but waved at you and asked you how you slept. When you replied with a simple ‘good’ she told you that she remembered those days and how well she’d sleep. 

“Made all the other girls and sometimes boys jealous that I slept in the bed of the frontman to a decently popular band.” Noodle smiled, crossing her legs and pointing some finger-guns.

“Don’ make it weird, Pasta.” You cracked a grin at her disheartened look.

“My name is Ramen, thank you very much.” She pointed to the newest picture on the fridge, “Like the newest edition? I used my Polaroid for a more ‘aesthetic’ look.”

“Love it, you caught my good side. The side when I’m asleep or dead.”

You were partially through some waffles that Russel made for everyone when Stu came downstairs in a good mood. You smile at him across the table, he returns the expression briefly before stacking a single waffle on his plate. Murdoc lifted his head to lock eyes with you, glaring as you waved your syrupy fork in greeting.

“Hope you’re happy kid,” Murdoc grumbled, “had to talk to Russ all night since I couldn’ find ya.”

“Never slept better, no nightmares from you talkin’ about your-”

“Don’t. Don’ talk about that anymore. I never want to hear anything about him anymore.” Russel spoke up from his seat beside Noodle. “I’m trying to eat, not ready to get sick this early.”

“Fanks for breakfast Russ, it was great.” Stu took his plate to the sink, and glanced at the pictures on the fridge as he ran water over the dirty dishes.

Normally there’s the best fanart of them on it, and all the real pictures of them had individual magnetic frames. Stu smiled at pictures of them all in the Geep, Kong Studios, the few fleeting happy moments on Plastic Beach, and all of them moving into the house. The picture right in the center changed his expression entirely. Stu saw himself happily curled around you as you both slept, seemingly unaware of what was happening.

“Who took this pict’a?” Stu yanked the picture off the fridge, and threw it in the middle of the table.

“Oh, that was me.” Noodle declared, not looking up from her phone.

“Reminds me ‘a how you’d always let this lil brat here-” Murdoc waved at Noodle, “sleep in your bed. Nightmare or not, she’d make excuses to sleep in your bed with ya.”

“I did not!”

“Sweetheart, you slept there once. Over the next month you slept there with him at least three times a week.”

Stu hung his head at the budding argument and plopped back into his chair. You placed your plate in the sink, and returned to your seat. Russel’s sigh was heard over Murdoc and Noodle’s bickering.

“Ay Dents, remember when you couldn’t tie your shoelaces an’ now it’s all over the web?” Murdoc cackled at the recollection.

“Remember when you called the internet a ‘wizard’s portal’?” Noodle retorted.

“Stop defending the idiot!” 

Stu’s head fell onto the table with a harsh thud, to which Murdoc laughed at his pain. His hands covered his eyes, the black orbs contrasting with the redness of his skin. He pulled himself back from the table in disgust. A glob of syrup was in his hair and on his forehead. You felt bad for causing this, no matter how fun it was to see the two beside you fight. 

“Look! He’s a total screw-up!” Murdoc cackled and pointed at Stu, “Idiot!”

If he was red before, then Stu could be legally classified as a tomato at this point. Stu flushed deeper, and you leaned over to him. Even Russel was laughing at this point, though he seemed to feel guilty about it.

“Sorry Dee,” You tugged on his hand, “this is my fault. . .”

“No, can’t really escape gettin’ picked on here. It’s family, and family will always poke fun and try to embarrass each other.” Stu flushed harder at Murdoc’s slap on the back, “An’ that means I’ll jus’ ‘ave to get ‘em back.”

“You’ll get ‘em back Dee.”

“Oh, I will.” Stu chuckled quietly to himself as he stood to most likely prepare to wash the syrup out, “I’ll effin’ get ‘em good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think!


End file.
